dilarasdad

If you managed to read my last blog regarding the cultures of the world, you my notice an underlying fact that I'm a bleeding heart when it comes to children. When I hear of conflict, poverty or disaster in this world, my thoughts go immediately to the children then the parents.

While I was in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan in 2004, I was walking back to my hotel on my last evening before going into Afghanistan. As I walked by a park, I noticed movement in the darkness near a statue. There was hardly any light at all, so I decided to move closer to allow my eyes to adjust so that I could determine the source of the movement.

As I approached, the lighting was quite dim and no matter how hard I tried to adjust, I could barely make out what was now on the statue. I pulled out my camera and took a few flash pictures. It turned out to be two boys, street children, looking for a place to stay warm and protected during the night.

They climbed onto the lap of the statue to absorb the warmth from the granite. It was heart-wrenching. They hovered close to each other, not to hide from the camera, but merely to stay warm. There's no doubt that Bishkek evenings can still be quite cool in June.

If I could, I would take all of the children that no one wanted. In turn, they would grow to help others just as they were helped... I don't think it would be a difficult task. Why do we become parents if we cannot love the children?